


cover you (in all these kisses)

by ahausonfire (thisiswherethefishlives)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Derek Nurse Is Not To Be Trusted In The Kitchen, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-11 06:52:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13518831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiswherethefishlives/pseuds/ahausonfire
Summary: So many kisses, so little time. Kiss prompt fills consolidated from tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

For all that they’re living together, it can be hard to find the time to be alone.

Which, if you had asked Derek about during their freshman year - their sophomore year - hell, if you had asked six months ago - he wouldn’t have seen a down side.

And maybe it’s a good thing that they didn’t have this. That they had to wait before their chemistry grew from something ice-bound into something all encompassing. Maybe they had to get their growing in before this could have worked.

Whatever the case, and whatever the story, it doesn’t really matter in the end. As much as Derek’s analytical heart wants to tease apart the threads that hold them together, none of it matters in the face of whatever the hell it is they’re doing.

(They’re in love.)

(It’s a fact.)

( _That’s_ what they’re doing.)

But yeah. It’s pretty rare that they get this. Between classes and practice and their best friend living next door, it’s just not always on the table. But when it is, it’s magic. It’s the best kind of magic - the kind that you can see - that you can feel, and touch, and it’s beautiful. Being with Will is the kind of magic you can believe in.

“You’re zoning out on me, Nurse,” Will rasps against Derek’s throat, needy and teasing in equal measure as he allows more of his weight to settle on Derek’s lap. And maybe it shouldn’t be as hot as it is, for Will to be crowded on him like this, wrapped up on Derek’s knees like a present or a treasure or a very, very good boy. But it is. Pretty much everything about Will is hot. The way that he skates. The way that he fixes things with his hands. They way that he’s crowded up on Derek, pressing kisses everywhere he can reach.

“I was just thinking,” Derek says, fingers flexing on Will’s skin where he’s got him held tight. “You’re kind of magic, you know that?”  
Will scoffs at that, the warmth of his breath heavy on Derek’s skin. “Jesus Christ, I’m trying to seduce you and you’re starting in with the leprechaun bullshit again?” He’s fond, even as he pulls away from where he’d curled so beautifully against Derek, eyes filled with humor instead of annoyance.

And maybe that’s it. Maybe they needed to grow a sense of humor before they could have this.

With laughter on his lips, Derek pulls Will back in until he’s back where he’s wanted most. Until his lips settle back against Derek’s cheek and his chin and his throat.

“Nah, you’re too tall to be a leprechaun.” Derek gets a nip to his adam’s apple for that one, but it’s worth it for the way that Will rocks into him. “I just… you’re magic. That’s all.”

There must be something extra tender in his tone, because Will pulls back again, hands coming up to cradle Derek’s face, and there’s the magic he had been talking about. The way that Will’s hands make him come alive. The way that Will’s eyes are always saying more than Will’s words. The way that Will ducks in close to sip the sincerity from Derek’s lips like it’s the finest of nectars.

And yeah… it’s magic.


	2. Chapter 2

The first time they kissed… well, it’s not really surprising that it was a mess. What’s surprising is that they kissed at all.

Okay.

That’s a lie.

A huge, ridiculous lie that Will’s pretty sure he’d get slapped for if he tried it out on Bitty, what with all the earnest glances and pep talks about trying, and the beauty of romance, and the importance of being friends before lovers.

So, yeah. After months ( _or is it years?_ ) of lingering glances and warm conversations and Genuine Moments™, pretending that it was anything less than an inevitability would be bullshit.

If Will were being honest - really, truly honest - he’d have to admit that the surprising thing was how soft it was, despite all the stumbling and the bruises and the aftermath of it all.

Because this is how it happened:

Will came home after a shitty day full of shitty classes, trudged up the shitty, creaky stairs to his (not so) shitty room, and he collapsed into the shitty bottom bunk.

And no, he didn’t cry. He wanted to, because sometimes the best thing you can do after a shitty, shitty day is cry. But he didn’t. Because before he got a chance, Derek Fucking Nurse showed up with a scone (cranberry white chocolate, Will’s favorite), a thermos of what can only be tea (Sleepytime, because even if he doesn’t understand Will’s allegiance, Derek’s taken up the ceremony of making it for him every day after class), and a friendly (beautiful) face.

Derek came home with comfort - he was comfort - and Will figured that kissing him (and the consequences that would undoubtedly come along with it) wouldn’t make his shitty day that much worse.

So he did it.

And maybe he should have waited until Derek’s hands were a little less full, but all Will could focus on was getting out of his bed. And then all he could think about was how good (sweet, beautiful, dorky) Derek looked with his hands full and his hat pulled low over his ears against the cold. And then Will was putting a (shaking) hand on Derek’s shoulder, another on his arm, and he put his lips on Derek’s lips, and it was A Moment™.

Derek had pulled back, frantic, and for a moment Will knew fear again. He knew fear for approximately two (shitty, ridiculously long) seconds before he realized what Derek was doing.

Because Derek - sweet, beautiful, dorky, wonderful Derek - was struggling to put everything down without dropping it. Until he did. Until he just fucking dropped the scone and the thermos (barely missing Will’s toes, thanks a lot) in order to stumble into Will’s space, all awkward limbs and stumbling steps, and it was perfect.

It was a mixture of soft, barely there brushes of lips, and grunts of pain as first Will then Derek slammed into the desk, hips knocking against the wood as their knees collided, and it was so much.

It was fumbling fingers reaching for sweaty palms as they collapsed into the bottom bunk.

And it was (sweet, handsome, dorky, wonderful, ridiculous) Derek Fucking Nurse looking (just the littlest bit cross-eyed) at Will like he was the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

And Will… well, it was hard to be surprised by anything in the face of all that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2\. moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed


	3. Chapter 3

This… wasn’t supposed to happen.

 _None_ of this was supposed to happen - from the trail of clothes behind them to the knocked over lamp beside the door - but that doesn’t change the fact that it did. That it’s  _still_ happening.

That five years of radio silence and moving on and growing up after graduation went up in smoke in a matter of seconds.

And really.

It just.

This shouldn’t be on the table, but if Nursey was hot in college, he’s stunning now.

And this shouldn’t be happening, but if there was unresolved tension between them before, it only took one evening of comfortable chirping - of  _flirting_  - for them to cross the line.

To cross every line.

And  _god_ , what a line to cross…

Because Nursey’s just as clumsy now as he was in college -  _clumsier_ , really, for all that his hands are on Will’s body and his lips are on Will’s lips - and it’s so much. It’s charming, and it’s sexy, and it’s everything that Will never allowed himself to think about.

Because this was never on the line.

And yet… here he is, pressed against the wall, Nursey caging him in - and  _god_ , even though they’re the same height, it makes Will feel small in the best way - in a way that curls tight and hot and urgent in the pit of his stomach. Every kiss has Will arching into it, body striving to be closer, even though he knows that they can’t get much closer.

One kiss leads to another, Nursey insistent with it, all heat and desire and  _god_. It’s so easy to get lost in this - lost in the press of Nursey’s body against his, all naked heat and coiled energy. It’s easier still because Will  _wants_ to get lost in this. For the first time in a long time, he wants to surrender.

To the inevitable.

To Nursey.

To himself.

Nursey’s thumbs brush against Will’s hip bones, and it’s enough to have Will shivering down to his toes.

“You’re thinking too hard, Poindexter,” he says, lips brushing against Will’s collarbone, and it’s so much. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“Oh my god,” Will groans, head falling back to hit the wall behind him a little harder than intended. “you’re literally getting off on this and you’re still chirping me? I should have seen this coming.”

Nursey laughs, and the force of it vibrates through from him to Will, and  _god_ , Will should be frustrated. He should be pissed, but the only thing he feels is fond… fondness aside, he can’t resist pretending that he’s ticked off. It’s kind of their thing.

“I swear on Bitty’s bakery, Nurse, if you make a joke about coming I’m walking away right now - and don’t you fucking  _dare_  tell me to chill.”

“Baby, I haven’t told you to chill in years,” and god -  _god_  - Will is not strong enough for the way that Nursey’s voice has gone deep and hot and focused. Hearing Nursey call him baby in  _that voice_ … it’s every dirty fantasy that Will hasn’t allowed himself condensed into a single moment. The smirk on Nursey’s face grows wide and smug when Will fails to chirp back - like he’s won something - and it would be insufferable if it wasn’t so hot. “Did you miss it, Poindexter? Miss me pushing all your buttons? Getting under your skin?”

The thing is… Will did miss it, and part of him wants to say so - wants to point out that Nursey hasn’t said  _anything_  to him in years - but that’s not what this is. Not in this moment, at least.

No, right now this is Nursey, pressed against him, gorgeous and temporary and beautiful, and Will has a choice. Will has hundreds of choices, really, but what they boil down to is this - he can stay, or he can go.

If Will were smarter, it would be an easy choice. He’d pull away, pull his pants back on, and he’d push Nursey out the door. He’d push this whole night out of his head and he’d move on, the same way he moved on from Samwell after graduation. If he wasn’t so damn weak when it came to Derek Nurse, he’d walk away without a second thought.

Problem is, he’s always been quick to let Nursey under his skin, even when it wasn’t the smart thing to do…  _especially_  when it wasn’t the smart thing to do.

So, yeah. It boils down to fight or flight.

Stay or go.

With his fingers buried in Nursey’s hair, Will pulls him close and makes his choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2\. moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed
> 
> 3\. kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s


	4. Chapter 4

They’re not on a break.

They’re just… they’re taking time.

Because Will’s always been too practical (and god, Derek remembers the first time it came up - how Will had reasoned against the practicality of ‘breaks’ - how he’s always been so black and white), and because Derek’s terrified to lose him.

So, yeah.

They’re not on a break, and they’re not broken up. They’re just in relationship purgatory, all because Bitty had to stick his nose into their relationship. And, like. Look, he  _loves_  Bitty. He’s a great fucking dude, but the problem is that Will has always looked up to him, even when Will didn’t understand him. So Bitty pulling him aside to point out all the apparent flaws in their relationship - the fighting, the secrecy, the different interests… it apparently carried enough weight to have Will question everything.

And, yeah.

Derek  _gets_  it. He does. Shit, he didn’t think they’d work out in the beginning either. But he’s never been good about leaving well enough alone, and he’s never been able to stay away from Will - even when he hated him.

Something about Will has always made something in Derek want to poke at him.

And… yeah, he can kind of understand Bitty’s concern. Or, he would, if he and Will hadn’t been putting work into being together… because the thing of it is, they work. They still chirp each other to high heaven, and they don’t always agree, but they  _talk_. They talk about everything, and it’s not always easy, but it’s not hard. 

It’s never hard to be with Will.

Or, it wasn’t, until now.

Because they’re not on a break, but they’re also not kissing. And right now, Derek wants to kiss him, more than pretty much anything. Because even with all the weirdness, Will is still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Will says, and it’s a miracle that Derek can hear him over the throbbing bass line. Everything in the room is loud except for Will, leaned against the wall like he’s casual - like every bone in his body is relaxed, and it’s almost funny in how against type he’s playing right now.

Part of Derek wonders if it’s more of Bitty’s advice in action, or if he’s really that calm.

Part of Derek wonders if this not-break is doing Will any good.

The rest of him just aches.

“If you don’t want me to look at you, you’re probably rooming with the wrong guy, Poindexter.”

Will’s eyes narrow over the rim of his cup as he finishes off his beer, throat working as he swallows, and Derek just wants to poke at the fake chill that he’s hiding behind.

But he can’t.

Because Will doesn’t seem to want that anymore.

He must set his cup down at some point, but it’s secondary to the way that Will’s lips are shiny from the beer - to the way that Will’s tongue chases the taste, and it’s so weird to be pining like this for someone that is technically still Derek’s boyfriend.

And yet, here he is. Staring.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Yeah, whatever. Fine. I’ll just leave you to whatever the fuck it is you’re doing.” Derek doesn’t even get to pivot from where he’s standing. Not when Will reaches out, circling his fingers around Derek’s wrist like it’s dainty. Like it’s an easy span. Derek misses Will’s hands… more than he should. Since they’re not on a break, or whatever.

“I didn’t say you had to leave, Derek,  _Jesus_. Why are you making this weird?”

He says it like a question, and that alone has Derek  gaping at him. “I didn’t make this weird.  _You_  made this weird, so excuse me if I don’t know how to act around you anymore, okay?”

“It’s not weird, Der-”

“ _Will_.” It comes out a little more desperate than Derek had wanted, but it’s enough to stop whatever the fuck Will was going to say. Because seriously, fuck that shit. “It’s really fucking weird, okay? I feel like I’m in Limbo, just waiting for you to decide if you want to end this, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that. I can’t look at you, I can’t talk to you, I can’t talk to my friends about you because they’re all your friends too.”

“I didn’t say you can’t  _look_ at me,” Will says, and for what it’s worth, he sounds pained, but the whole situation is fucked up and confusing. “I just can’t have you looking at me like you want to kiss me. Not right now. It’s too much, and I  _can’t_.”

He looks sad. He looks so, so fucking sad, and it hurts. Like, it hurts too much, and for the first time in a long time, Derek can’t handle having Will’s hands on him, has to shake him off.

And, like…

Will’s face shutters at that, and Derek just wants to fix this. But he can’t. If anything, this whole experience has just solidified the realization that Derek can’t fix shit.

The only thing he can do is be honest.

Which, honestly, sucks a lot. But he kind of loves Will. In kind of a big way.

The  _least_  he can do is be honest.

Even when he knows what he’s about to lose.

“Will… I  _always_  want to kiss you, and I’m sorry - I’m  _sorry_ , but I don’t know how else to look at you. You’re my person, and I know that you’re not happy… I know that you don’t really believe that we can work, or whatever, and I’m sorry for that too.

“Like, I’d do anything to fix this if I thought I could, but I- I think you need to call it. I need to know what we’re doing - or not doing - because you’re not really giving me anything to go off of, and I need more right now… if you want to break up, it’s okay. It’s  _okay_. Like, I’ll get over it - I’ll move on - but I’m not going to get over this if you don’t let me.”

By the time he’s done, Derek’s throat is raw with unshed tears, and the whole thing is too much. He’s stretched too thin - too vulnerable - and it’s the worst. He risks a glance at Will, but that hurts too - seeing how miserable he looks…

Another song picks up, something perky and upbeat, and just like that Derek needs to leave. The fact that they’ve been holding this mutual fucking breakdown with drunken coeds pressed around them doesn’t help.

It’s claustrophobic as fuck, and Derek can’t be here.

Will doesn’t try to stop him this time when Derek turns to leave, and he doesn’t call after him when Derek runs up the stairwell in order to escape, and the thing is that Derek doesn’t expect Will to call after him because he’s pretty sure he knows what Will’s answer is going to be, and even though he asked for resolution, it doesn’t make the anticipation any easier because he  _loves_ Will, and at one point he had convinced himself that Will loved him too -  _and maybe Bitty was right_  - maybe they were just fooling themselves the entire time - maybe  _Derek_  was fooling himself the entire time, and maybe it-

“I thought you’d be in the reading room,” Will says from somewhere behind him, and it’s enough to pull Derek out of his spiraling while simultaneously giving him a fucking heart attack. And really, who gave Will the right?

“If you want me to go-” The words stick in Derek’s throat, and it’s too much. The whole thing is too much, but… god, he can’t remember a time where he didn’t want Will. Not for a long time now, and even with everything going to shit, Derek can’t stop himself from turning towards him - like a particularly dumb flower towards the sun.

“I don’t want you to leave, Derek. I just-” He takes a deep breath, as if to continue the thought, but then Will’s mouth snaps shut, and Derek  _knows_  that he shouldn’t be looking - that he shouldn’t be listing closer - that Will doesn’t  _want_  him right now… but Will’s lips have always been his weakness. They’re just… so pink, and they’re so soft - the kind of soft Derek had thought only existed in fiction.

They’re close now - close enough that Derek could trace the pads of his fingers along the bow of Will’s lips - close enough to smell the mint eucalyptus shampoo that Will favors - close enough to be fully exposed in his wanting.

It wouldn’t be a problem if Will wasn’t coming closer too - bridging the gap between them with soft lips and softer eyes, and they’re not on a break, but Derek’s resolve is  _shattered_.

They kiss-

They kiss, and it’s perfect and destructive all at once, and it’s not enough. If this is their last kiss… well, Derek’s not sure that anything could ever be enough. Because he didn’t  _lie_. If Will is done, he’ll get over it. But he’s not there yet. He’s just-

_Fuck_ , he’s crying, and Will’s pulling back, eyes shuttering and hands fluttering up to wipe away Derek’s tears, and Derek’s not ready for this to end. He’s  _not_. He needs to be, but he’s n-

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hiccuping on nothing as the tears keep falling, and there’s nothing for it. He’s a mess. He’s a mess, and he should leave. Even if Will said not to… maybe he was just humoring him. Being kind. “Are you sure you-”

Will kisses him again before Derek can offer to leave again - before he can slink away into oblivion and excuses and sadness - and it  _hurts_. It hurts so much that Derek has to push Will away, desperate to get space again. Because they’re playing with fire, here, and Derek never wants to suffer Will’s kisses again if they’ll only mean pain.

“I love you,” Will says, shoulders slumped and lips held thin and tight, and he looks so fucking sad about it that Derek wants to die. “I love you so much, and I couldn’t tell you - I couldn’t tell my folks, and I thought it would be okay… that it would work out, but-

“When Jack and Bitty sat us down, I was so hopeful that I could be happy. That it was okay to be like that - private and contained - that it was okay if my parents didn’t know. Because I wasn’t ready to tell them. I’m  _still_  not ready to tell them, and… how can I be with you if I can’t even be brave enough to the people that matter most?

“I just… I’ve been trying to figure out how to keep you, and- I’m not brave enough. I want to be, but I’m-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The second the words are out of Derek’s mouth, he knows they were the wrong choice, but it doesn’t make them any less authentic. “Babe, I don’t need you to tell your family about me, we’ve talked about this…  _wait_ , is that what Bitty was on you about?”

Will keeps his eyes on the floor, looking guilty and terribly small as he nods, and Derek sees red.

“I don’t expect you to out yourself for me. When and if that happens, it should be when you’re ready. Like, I’m not in this for that - I’m in this for  _you_.”

“I know, he’s just… they’ve been so happy since they came out, and Bitty was telling me about how hard it was for him when he couldn’t tell his folks… how much better their relationship was afterwards, and I want that for you. I don’t like being the person that’s keeping you from happiness.”

It’s such a Will way of thinking - common sense married with a martyr complex bigger than Manhattan - and suddenly everything makes sense. Weeks wasted on misery when they could have just  _talked_ …

“We need to keep working on this talking thing if this is going to work out, Poindexter. I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty invested at this point.”

Will laughs at that, a huffy little thing, and somehow it’s enough to lift the mood.

Careful, Derek reaches out to pull Will closer, and it’s a relief when Will allows himself to be moved - when he sighs into it, easy as anything.

“Yeah, Nurse,” he says, voice raw and deep and tender, “I’m in this for as long as you’ll have me.”

And that?

That’s the best thing that Derek’s heard in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10: staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in
> 
> 11: when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more


	5. Chapter 5

In hindsight, Derek knows better.

He knows that Will hates being distracted, knows what he’s like when he’s in the middle of a project, knows how temperamental Will is when he’s elbow deep in fresh pasta dough (and really, what the fuck, how did Derek get so fuckin lucky to snag a boyfriend that makes fresh pasta on a whim), but…

The thing is…

Derek gets needy sometimes. Like. Stage 5 Clinger status needy. And. Like, sometimes he needs to feel gorgeous and wanted and vital and important.

And sometimes that means coming up to Will (grumpy, talented, wonderful Will) while he’s in the middle of his latest culinary adventure, pressing sweet kisses to the side of Will’s neck - to the shell of his ear - to the cut of his jaw, all to earn a fraction of his attention, even if it’s just Will slapping him away with dough on his hands and a shake of his head.

(Because negative attention is attention.)

(At least that’s what his mom would always say, shaking her head in disappointment at every write up - every misunderstanding - every moment where Derek needed to be noticed.)

And, yeah.

Derek knows better than to push all of Will’s buttons, but there are times when he needs more.

More attention.

More love.

More time.

Will sighs, heavy and resigned, and Derek braces himself - readies himself for the moment Will pushes him away. Because he knows better.

He does.

“This your idea of helping, Der?” Will asks, soft and sweet and not at all irritated, like he knows what Derek needs (which is unthinkable, ridiculous, a silly little thing of a thought), leaning back against Derek’s chest even as he continues to roll the dough out on the board.

“Chyeah,” Derek says, forcing a laugh out as he pushes closer to Will’s back, clingy and too much and ridiculous (he knows). “That’s me. Helping out. With kisses.” Just to hammer the point home, he presses a kiss to Will’s shoulder, nuzzling against the skin-warmed cotton of his shirt.

Will doesn’t reply at first, his focus still dedicated to the pasta, but he doesn’t make Derek leave him alone, either. He just keeps his eyes on the counter and his arms maintain a steady rhythm, and really, Derek’s not ready for it when Will speaks again. “Good,” he says, as if it was that easy.

(As if Derek wasn’t pushing his luck to begin with.)

“Yeah?” Derek asks, less a question than an exhale, and he doesn’t mean to hold his breath, but-

“Yeah. I like it when you’re around. It, uh… it makes me happy.” He’s still rolling out the dough, but there’s a flush blooming along the back of Will’s neck, and the tips of his ears go all rosy, and there’s a warmth in Derek’s stomach that probably won’t go away any time soon.

Because, like.

Will’s never getting rid of him now. Not after saying something like that. Not after settling the aching little itch in the back of Derek’s head that makes him cling when he knows better.

(Because, yeah. Negative attention is still attention, but this? This is love and warmth and comfort and care, and he’s never felt so at home as he does here.)

Derek presses another kiss to Will’s neck and settles in for keeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 19\. kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing


	6. Chapter 6

They’ve been dancing around each other from the first moment that they met.

And, like. _Yeah_. It hasn’t all been good (like, literally and metaphorically, white guys just can’t fucking dance), but it hasn’t been all bad either. It’s just… been a hell of a dance, and sometimes it’s been hard for Derek to keep up with the rhythm. Sometimes it’s been near fucking impossible, the two of them always slightly off-beat, trying their best and still falling short.

Now, though?

Shit, _now_ they’re on the same page - the same line - the same measure - and it’s like nothing that Derek’s ever known. Like. For what is certainly not the first time, he wonders if this is what it would feel like to be drift compatible. 

And maybe he’s a little drunk on it. Maybe he’s a tiny bit reckless. _Whatever_ he is, he’s not alone in this - not with the way that Will’s eyes are dilated, or the way that he allows himself to be crowded back against the kitchen counter, or the way that his hands come up to clutch at Derek’s shoulders.

For the first time they’re moving to the same cadence, and it’s intoxicating. 

And oh, the first brush of his lips against Will’s is just a ghost of a thing - barely anything to write home about - and yet… one soft touch of lips and Derek is _gone_. He’s dizzy with emotion, shakey on his feet, and still he wants more. 

He wants so much more, so he takes it. Soft and sweet and nothing more than Will is offering, and it’s perfect. 

It’s so, so good.

It’s-

“Holy fucking shit, what the _shit_ \- fucking _fuck_ -”

And yeah. 

His hand is on fucking fire and well on its way to blistering, and it’s only as Will pushes him far enough away to investigate that Derek notices the baking sheet behind him. 

And for real, on literally any other day, he’d be thrilled to see cookies fresh from the oven.

Now, though? Fucking _now_ , as Will takes control of the situation and rushes around to ice Derek’s hand?

Yeah. 

_Fuck_.

“So, uh,” Will starts, pausing just long enough to push Derek down into one of the kitchen chairs, falling to his knees in front of him, and _god_ , if this were any other day Derek would be on fire to see Will like this. Well. Less literally, more figuratively. Whatever. As if sensing his wandering mind, Will huffs before pulling Derek’s injured hand closer for inspection. “That was kind of a disaster, yeah?”

He’s careful - _so careful_ \- as he unfolds Derek’s fingers from the way they’d been clenched, nodding his head absently before starting to clean the wound. The damp paper towel that he uses to dab at Derek’s skin is blissful in its momentary relief. And maybe it shouldn’t be so surprising, but for someone that’s pretty much known for being casually brusque, Will is astoundingly gentle as he takes care of him. 

He’s just… _so_ , so serious in this moment - the amount of care he has evident with every microexpression that passes across his face - and even though his voice is dripping with self-deprecation, there’s a small smile that’s harbored on his lips that has Derek lighting up from something _other_ than smarting pain. 

“Worth it, though,” Derek says around a smirk that quickly devolves into a grimace as Will gently applies Neosporin to the burn ( _gently,_ it’s all so gentle). The pain doesn’t make it any less true, though.

Because, _yeah_. Derek is weak for this basic-ass white boy.

He really, really is.

From the way that Will looks up at him, flushed and gorgeous and more than a little knowing, Derek has a feeling that Will knows exactly how weak he is.

If he doesn’t, well… he’s about to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 14\. starting with a kiss meant to be gentle, ending up in ~~passion~~ disaster

**Author's Note:**

> 18: kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap  
> 13: following the kiss with a series of kisses down the neck


End file.
